


Closure

by bexacaust



Series: Closure [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Actual Parent Ancestors, Other, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4467878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Come stop your crying; It'll be alright.<br/>Just take my hand, hold it tight...<br/>I will protect you from all around you-<br/>I will be here, don't you cry...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guidance

He tried hard to stand tall, to fill your footsteps even as he stumbled.

He was still so… _small_.

So small.

And… he saluted you.

“The hell are ye about, boyo?”

“Y-You’re the Orphaner.”

“Not anymore.”

The young seadweller looked at you in terror. You tilted your head, narrowing your good eye at the shaken young thing. He was slim, but strong. You reached out a hand to bat his salute away and he flinched.

You froze.

“S-S-Sorry sah.”

You leaned down, fins flicking in confusion, “WWhat’s got ye shakin’ young ‘un? Ahm not sae scary, am I?”

He nodded, shy.

You couldn’t help it. You chuckled as you stood straight and ruffled his hair, to his surprise. He shrunk from the touch, until he realized it was gentle, affectionate. His fins tilted down, and one scrunched-closed eye opened to look up at you.

“Och, yeh’re a shy wee thing. Good tae know the good traits passed on down.”, you chortled at him.

He risked a tiny smile, that broke for a second.

That’s… That’s when you saw the line of violet around his midsection. Your face fell as you went down to one knee and he pulled away from you. He shook his head, pushing your hands away from the injury until you fixed him with a stern glare, learned from dealing with a rowdy crew for so long.

“Yeh’re hurtin’; nah le’ me take a look.”

You lifted the edge of his shirt.

You felt your throat seize when you saw it. Still healing itself closed; a ghastly scar slowly overtaking what you knew had to be raw and painful.

“Christ.”

You felt his flinch as you looked back to his face. You remembered that terrified expression on your own once, but… You’d been so much older, so much more prepared…

This kid’s fins didn’t even show his stripes yet.

You got to your feet, putting a hand on his shoulder, talking fast and low and trying to chase the terror from his expression.

“Come along wi’ me, a’right? I’ll get ya fixed up, good an’ proper.”

“P-Please don’t kill me.”, whispered the small seatroll, clutching at his cloak (yours, once) and shivering.

You looked at him in shock, “… Ah’d never.. who… who fed yeh such trash abo’t me? Ah’ve killed many a lusus but ah wudnae touch a small ‘un like you.”

“Th-They taught that y’wwere terrifyin’.”, whispered your tiny descendant as he began to relax, “They told you held no mercy in y’soul. That you felt nothin’ at all.”

Your face grew annoyed, “Oh aye, listen tae the pink wench why don’t ye. Ah learnt mah lesson abo’t her.”

You had made your decision. You popped the clasp of his cloak, and scooped him into one strong arm. He clung to you like a limpet, fins down and wavering. You heard the tap of rings against your breastplate as your boots thudded along the misty ground towards your aethership. You picked up the pace when you felt more than heard a soft hiccup from the child in your grasp.

You handed his cloak to one of your crewmen, who bustled away down to the washroom near the galley as you whisked your descendant away to your cabin.

You felt dampness against your neck.

He was so scared, scared and scarred and you hated that those two words were so close in spelling, in meaning.

You sat him upon your desk, coaxed him to pull his tattered shirt from his frame… and ground your teeth in sudden white hot anger.

“Who did this tae you, boyo. I want fuckin’ Names.”

You couldn’t help the growl in your voice. He was littered in scars; coated in them, like paintlines on the old Palace artwork, like the Old Indigo’s hellish designs. Each one raised, keyloidal, some you swore were dark enough to make you wonder how deep the wound had been.

“I did.”

You deflated, sitting heavy in your chair as his glazed eyes met yours.

“What?”

“I had ta help Feferi.”

“With what boyo, what were ye-  **no**. Please,  _please_  tell me ye weren’t…”

“Sh-She needed help huntin’ l-lusii please don’t be m-mad!”

You felt your old heart crack a little as this child hung his head and let thin shoulders shiver and shake As aristocrat’s hands came up and covered a damp face and he bit his lip to try and stop it.

“Dinnae cry, little one, please stop yeh’re cryin’ noo.”, you whispered, coaxing his hands from his face and smoothing messy waves of black and violet back, “It’s alrigh’ ah’m no’ angry wi’ yeh.”

He hiccuped hard, sniffing grandly.

You felt the twin lines over your own face shift as you smile, gentle.

“Let’s get yeh patched up and cleaned up, an’ then we’ll talk.”

He nodded.

“What’s yeh’re name? Much as I’d rather just call yeh little ‘un.”

“Eridan. Eridan Ampora.”, he murmured, “Orphaner in Training.”

Silence, and you exhaled slowly to attempt to stifle your rage. She had done this to him, Her desperation to rule Her planet from a million years and cares away.

Your boots had a heavy sound as you walked hither and thither while you patched up your too-small descendant, letting him speak in his quiet stammer as you did so.

You felt rage building in your chest as he told you of the Trials he endured to prove his worth. As he told you of his moirail, of how they failed. Of his murders, and his deep seated regret.

His living guilt, something the dead should never suffer.

And you constantly wondered over how small he was. He was small, closer to the size of some of your crew. He hadn’t hit his adult molt yet, even. One of the crewmates brought clothes that would fit the boy, soft cotton shirt and long pants to hide the scarring.

You found the tattoos, small dark patterns inscribed on still youthful skin, and recognized them.

He was so tiny…

Yet he dwarfed you in comparison.

He fell quiet when you were finished doctoring his injuries, his hurts. He blinked at you in owlish confusion as you ushered him off to the ablution block to go get cleaned up, reminding him gently to brush his teeth (”Both lines a them, Eri.”) and to scrub get behind his aural fins when he washed up.

You heard the door click shut, heard the water start, and snuck away to gather your crew by your door; to give orders that anything mildly pinkish in color be shot full of holes or blasted to oblivion.

You returned to find him dressed, hair still damp and face scrubbed until a healthy lavender tinge danced over his cheekbones. He had his arms wrapped around himself, and he still trembled.

You closed the door softly, the click alerting him to your return.

He looked at you, a scared wolf-pup in the darkness, and you let him watch as you unbuckled your breastplate, as you pulled off ancient armor and toed off your boots with the scuffed heels.

“…C’mere little one.”

Hesitantly, he approached you, fins still down and scared. You knelt, hands on his shoulders.

“Let go a yeh’re guilt, Eri. Yeh don’ deserve such a burden.”

“I’m a  _killer_.”

“Yeh’re a  _child_.”

“I’m a  **bastard**.”

“Yeh’re  **hurtin’**.”

“I’m _ **evil**_.”

“Yeh’re a  ** _survivor_** , boyo.”, you said to him, your voice a low baritone.

He looked at you. He looked like china, like chalk, ready to break under the weight of a hot shower and affection.

“Yeh’re a survivor, Eri. You made it through things I hadnae faced till I was dozens of sweeps intae livin’.”, you continued, “An’- nah look at me, little ‘un.”

He had looked away, but returned his gaze to you.

“Ah’ve never been more proud tae share mah name or sigil than when ah found ye. Dinnae doubt mah words, ah’m too honest a troll f’that.”

Eridan blinked, and you saw the shrink-wrap of tears forming.

“Ah’m  **proud**  ah ye, Eridan.  _More proud than words can say_.”

He broke.

He fell against you, chest shuddering and you rocked back on your haunches, sitting on the floor as he tumbled into your lap and clung to you. He clung to you and let his heart purge itself of all of its hurt, its loneliness, its rejection. He trilled through tears as you pet his hair, tucked his head under your chin, and rocked him like a child.

“Ahm proud a you, so very proud…”, you murmured, to him, as his sobs faded to whimpers, as whimpers petered out into the level breathing of sleep. You chuckled when you saw he had his knuckles to his lips in his sleep, a remnant no doubt of suckling fingertips as a sleepy little boy.

You pulled his glasses from his face, and carried him to your desk, grabbing a blanket along the way.

You draped it over him, and let him doze peacefully against you as you read silently by lamplight, your spectacles glinting in the low glow.

He relaxed against you, and trilled softly.

“Da…”

You paused, glancing down at him… and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

He was your boy, your descendant. He had survived things worse than hell… and you refused to let him hurt again.


	2. Little Tin Soldier

Dualscar yawned softly, feeling small clawed hands push at his shoulders.

“Da, wwake up, come oooon!”

Dualscar chuckled to himself, opening one opalescent eye to see the eager face of Eridan, flushed violet and a smile as wide as a midnight crescent.

“ ‘M tiiiiired…”, groaned the old privateer, trying not to laugh as he heard the small sounds of furiously wiggling earfins.

“Come oooooooooooooooon you said wwe could go divvin’ t’day!”

“Tha’ I did, didn’t I?”, laughed Dualscar, sitting up and stretching. He scratched his chest, eyes lidded and happy as he watched his descendant bounce and buzz around excitedly, bare feet thudding on the wood floor as he tore out to the open deck.

A few moment later, Dualscar appeared on deck as well, feet bare like his descendant and buckling his belt. Eridan was laughing, sitting on the shoulders of a burly brownblood as he hauled on heavy rope to stow the sails. Eridan wobbled in his perch, grabbing out for rigging and pulling himself up.

Dualscar laughed as the brownblood turned a full circle, wondering where the young Ampora had gone before looking up and laughing at the cheeky young seadweller.

This is what he should have been. Smiling, loud and obnoxious as he grew an inch a day.

Not curled up, covering his scars as he slept fitfully.

Eridan straddled the crosspar and watched a sailor tie the knots that held the sails rolled and closed, paying rapt attention as the old teal quietly explained, offered him the rope to try himself.

Dualscar grinned, glancing back at his crew who gave him amused looks.

“Lad’s a good kid.”, murmured the brownblood, “Chip off the block, ‘e is.”

“Aye, tha’ he be.”, mused Dualscar as Eridan waved happily, pointing at his successful tying. The Teal laughed, ruffling dual-toned hair as Eridan moved back to the rigging. Like a newborn bird, still ungainly but getting his footing slowly, he clambered down the mess of ropes.

He looked at Dualscar mischievously, and dropped; with a short shout of alarm, Dualscar ran to catch a giggling youth, frowning without malice at the laughing seatroll.

“Y-Your face! Y’shoulda seen y’face!”

“Y’wee rascal how could yeh scare me like tha’!”, mock-whined the old privateer, before he set to tickling his young charge.

Eridan crowed in laughter and squirmed until he was released to stand on the deck, bouncing on his heels.

“Come ooooooon!”, he groaned, grabbing the arm of the Captain and tugging him along. Dualscar stumbled a step, laughing as he followed once he regained his footing.

“They’ve wweighed anchor an’ evverythin’ an’ I’vve been wwaitin’ all patient like!”

Eridan leaned over the rail, watching the bright swirl of water and aethermist below as he babbled on.

Dualscar grinned, pulling a cigarette case and light from his pocket. Eridan briefly glanced over as Dualscar lit a cigarette before going back to talking about the water and how much he missed being able to just go swimming without dealing with cuttlefish or hunting. He pulled himself up higher on the railing, toes pointing down and not touching the deck.

And Dualscar struck.

“Well if yeh’re sae excited, jump in!”

With a nudge, Eridan yelped and went right over the side. A heavy splash and a shout of, “YOU OLD WWANKER!” as Dualscar roared in laughter, smoke drifting from him like an old dragon.

He leaned over the side, grinning.

“Ah’ve warned ye boyo, ne’er turn yeh’re back ‘pon me. Ah’m old an wise y’know!”

Of course, he hadn’t expected his crew to give him the same treatment. He swore loudly, feeling his legs grabbed as he was hoisted over o the same fate as his descendant to the chorused laughter of crewmates.

He surfaced, sputtering as Eridan splashed him with a snicker. Eridan’s hair was in curly waves, a mess of ink and violet as he waved for crewmates to follow them.

A line of eyes turned to Dualscar as he smoothed his saturated hair back.

“Oh aye, gerron in boyos! Firs’ one tae dunk the lad gets mah favor!”

With happy cheers and much laughter, crewmates young and old hoisted themselves over the side, some jumping and cannonballing from the railedge itself.

Eridan darted around, a brilliantly colored reef-fish compared to the broader Ampora who all-but plucked him from the water and tossed him like a feather.

Eridan laughed, curling and hitting the water surface with a smack and further drenching all who surrounded them.

This is what he should have been. Happy.

Dualscar laughed aloud, a great bellow of mirth from a broad and barreled chest… Until two of the deckhands and Eridan splashed him gloriously and he set to playful chase.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As Night faded to light, they hauled their tired bodies back up the nets over the sides.

Eridan was draped over Dualscar’s back, yawning through his smiles as he was carried back up to the deck. He heard the sound of Dualscar’s feet hitting the wood, and he looked up drowsily.

“C’me on nah, li’l one. Let’s get somethin’ intae yeh’re stomach b’fore ye drop right off.”

Eridan nodded, sliding from Dualscar’s back and yawning grandly, sharkish teeth glinting from the lights on deck.

He leaned against Dualscar as they walked down to the galley, a mess of noise and the smells of food. The old Blueblood who had been the cook for eons (it seemed) chortled as Eridan looked up at him.

“Oh, the growin’ boy! An’ he’s gotten taller again, Dualie; near my shoulder now.”

Dualscar chuckled as Eridan puffed out his chest proudly.

“He’ll give ya a run for your money soon, Dualie, that he will. Mark my words, he’ll be a fine specimen when he’s grown!”, the cook nodded, “Sharp as whipcrack t’boot. You’ll have to lock him away and guard him wi’ that old peashooter you call a rifle.”

Dualscar laughed, keeping an eye on Eridan as he gravitated towards the smells of food.

The old cook watched, before gently and playfully scolding Eridan. He led the young seadweller about, showing him different things and tastes until the drowsy boy’s stomach was stuffed and his eyes barely open.

Affection welled in Dualscar as Eridan yawned wide and returned to him, tugging gently at the bony tines of his dorsal fin; like a child would tug on their father’s sleeve.

“Oh, he’s so tired Captain!”, cooed the young woman bustling about the crewmates, “Lookit the poor little dear!”

Eridan blushed, still shy around the “fairer sex” as she sashayed closer, wide hips making her apron flutter with each sway.

“Oh the poor dearie.”, she cooed. A rustblood galleymaid, she stroked Eridan’s hair once before slipping away, to return with sweetcordial for him.

“Sweet sips for sweet boys; ‘s a rule of the kitchen!”

“Young lady, are you spoiling the Captain’s charge!”, called the cook.

“Aye, I am since you went and stuffed him like a prime roast!”, she called back, “Wish y’d do that f’me once in a while, ye?!”

She winked at the laughing cook.

“Oh you mouthy tart!”

Eridan leaned against Dualscar, yawning and sipping at something that smelled faintly of strawberries… As the cup emptied, his eyes drooped lower and lower.

Dualscar let him doze, enjoying the hum of activity and noise in the kitchen. The galleymaid returned, draping a fetched blanket over the snoozing young Ampora, and kissing his temple softly.

“He’s a good boy.”, she cooed, “Far too sweet t’be bred of Alternian stock…”

“Aye, t’was his downfall I’d say. He was a broken little prince.”

“He’s healin’ now, right? Gettin’ better?”

Dualscar smiled down at his descendant, gently patting Eridan’s still damp hair and nodding.

“Aye, ah think he is.”

The galleymaid took the empty cup from the curled fingers of the sleeping boy as Dualscar bundled him up to carry him off. Eridan trilled in his sleep, curling closer to his Ancestor and yawning in contentment.

Once again, like the night they first met, Dualscar sat heavily in his chair in his cabin, letting Eridan curl in his lap and sleep the sleep of the dreaming as older eyes watched over him.

“Sweet dreams, li’l one.”

“Lo’e you.” was the exhausted murmur in return.


	3. Growth Spurt

He was an absolute wreck; and that was putting it nicely.

Dharma, the rustblood who worked in the Galley, frowned grandly at him as he sat; sipping dark coffee with a shake to his hands and his hair a blasphemous mess of inky curls and pale lavender streaks of age.

“Ah just- He’s sae young-”

“Its his eighth sweep now, old man! You know as well as I-”

“Ah know tha’ bu’ STILL! Ah’m deep-sea mahsel’, so is Cro. The boy is tropical breed, how in all the levels a hell am I-”

“That’s it, come with me!”, she snapped, grabbing his arm in her small hand and tugging for him to follow. 

Slouching he stood, carrying his coffee with him as he followed her to his cabin, where Eridan lay within, curled in a coon filled with thick sopor as he shivered and whined in sleep. It was a growth spurt, and he was taking it horrendously. His skin was hypersensitive, and he wanted nothing to do with the outside world as his tender-finbuds throbbed and the cracking carapace of youth itched and stung like a hive of hornets in summer.

Dharma barged in, and gasped.

“Cap’n, get the medic and kick cooky awake. This boy needs a mothergrub’s touch. Seein’ as a ship lacks one a those, I will do my best!”

She dried her hands on her apron and paused, “…And bring me a small pitcher of fizzy and some of the good dark bread from atop the ovens. Cooky will deal or I will make him deal, by the bones of the dead.”

And she bustled in with a bounce of her skirts and a sway of hips.

Dualscar slunk off, going belowdecks to gently rouse both the cook and the ship’s doctor and murmur the situation to them in worried whispers. They pulled themselves immediately from slumber to follow him, gathering their tools to them as they did so.

Dharma knelt by the coon, cooing to Eridan to make him raise his head.

“D’ma…”, he slurred, and burst into tears as the breaking skin over his collarbones shifted.

“Oh, oh baby.”, she sighed, “Come now, I know, I know it hurts, let’s clean this nasty yuck off of yeh, okay?”

“I-It HURTS!”

“I know, babymine.”, she said gently, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to a sweat-drenched forehead, “I  _know_  babymine, but you’re doin’ so well, okay? We’re getting the doctor and the cooky, you like them and they’re gonna help make you better okay?”

He whined, a pitiful sound, and her heart broke from it as he slowly pushed himself from the sopor.

A hiss, and a chunk of him dropped into the green with nary a splash. He sobbed, his grip making the coon edge creak as he wailed in pain.

The thud of boots, and Dualscar filled the doorway briefly before ghosting in, murmuring in old tongues, soothing words. Eridan’s arms nearly gave, but Dualscar caught him, ignoring the sopor smearing onto his shirt as he gently lifted Eridan from the thick green sludge.

Dharma set the coon to drain, and the pair of them coaxed him to the washroom attached to the cabin. 

“Dual, run the water, not too hot now, tepid is the ticket!”, she ordered. She used her claws to peel the old nightshirt in strips from the sticky body of Eridan, and she gasped.

“Oh my lordy, his gills, no wonder he’s in pain!”, she breathed, “Medic! Medic now is not the time to play up your age!”

The clack of sharp-toed shoes, and the glint of bifocals in the dim light.

“And you say he’s tropical, Captain?”

“Aye. Rare in our line, but it does happen.”, sighed Dualscar, “Ah’ve done wha’ I can but… It’s jest not enough!”

The doctor nodded, “His gills look to have some kind of blockage; tell me, does he have heavy scarring?”

“…Near bad as mine.”, said Dualscar quietly.

“..I see. Dharma, lovey, get the small scalpel from my bag. Dualscar, I’m going to have to ask you to hold him. This will not feel nice in the least.”

“Wh’t are yeh goin’ tae do?”, asked Dualscar, flaring slightly; defensively.

Eridan whined, fingers twitching like he wanted to gouge at his skin.

“The scarring on his body is causing the carapace to meld to the underlayers of his skin. In essence, he can’t shed properly because his skin is glued on.”, said the medic as Dharma bustled about, shushing the whimpering young seadweller while she passed medical tools to the Doctor as he spoke, “What I am going to do is try and force it to break apart. Like ripping off a bandage, or an old scab.”

Dualscar nodded, inching closer to Eridan; coaxing him with trills and soft sounds to stumble to him. He coaxed the youth into the tub, watching his fins flare and crackle as lukewarm water rinsed his bare body and he sighed.

Dualscar knelt, smiling gently, running his fingers through Eridan’s wet hair.

“We start with the dorsal.”

Dualscar pushed his sleeves up, reaching down to turn Eridan ever so gently, hold the boy tightly and the Captain’s eyes shut tight as Eridan wailed in pain again.

And the Doctor set to work.

Eridan kicked, he screeched, and Dualscar felt tears stream down the boy’s face as tiny claws dug into a burly frame.

“Ah know, ah know wee one ah’m sae sorry, it’ll be done wi’ soon little one, little warrior.”, he murmured as Eridan’s chest heaved from sobbing. The water ran violet and a sickly off white before the sticky sounds of a freed fin struck Dualscar’s ears. He glanced down, and gasped.

“Oh Eri, Eri yeh’re sae pretty.”, he cooed, stroking Eridan’s hair and kissing the top of a wet head, “Ah know it hurts like blazes but yeh’re doin’ sae well. It’s th’ legs next hold on, yeh’re sae brave, doin’ this.”

“D-D-Da it huuuuuuuuuuuurts!”, he sobbed, clinging to Dualscar as Dharma nudged in with a heavy rag to wipe away the stickiness of a bad molt.

Dualscar hated how helpless he felt, but a gentle touch to his shoulder reminded him that Dharma was there, as always; that the medic was working quickly and as gently as he could.

And then the lower bloods froze when they heard it, before quickly falling back to work and pretending to hear nothing.

Not a single note.

No one would admit that this day, the great and terrifying Orphaner Dualscar chewed his lip briefly before his low baritone rumbled out an old lullaby from the days of rocky crags and cliffed coastlines. Eridan blinked, before burying his face against Dualscar and sobbing once more before he listened to the old privateer inhale air and exhale words he hadn’t hear in forever.

He twitched, flinching and whimpering as each fin was freed one by one. He spat and hissed when his earfins were done, flapping them weakly once the old scarring was done away with and the swollen buds finally busted and fell away from him.

He cooed and sniffled when Dharma swiped a cool rag over the tender skin, trilling once when Dualscar once more pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“We’ll need him prone for the gills. Out of the tub, young prince.”

Near-concussed from sharp bursts of pain and relief, Eridan merely clung to Dualscar as he was lifted out effortlessly. His fins were twitching, blood pumping to them in a strange mockery of livelihood and the bars and artful stains of violets and lavenders and plums flickering to life.

And the doctor worked on.

His scalpel tip pressed and flicked, and Eridan howled in anguish.

“Good Lord…”, breathed the doctor, “We got to him just in time. Much longer and the salinity fronds would have almost rotted.”

Dualscar tightened his grip minutely, letting Eridan drape over him and simply cry.

Dharma cooed to him as he lay against Dualscar’s chest now; as the Captain stretched out his legs and seemed to cradle his descendant with his entire being.

“There we are. Stretch, young prince, you need it.”, said the Doctor quietly, “You were such a good patient, I’m so proud of you.”

A soft trill.

“We all are, especially the Captain.”, purred Dharma as Dualscar wordlessly nodded.

A chitter, and a rattly and youthful purr.

Eridan stretched out in Dualscar’s embrace, fins flaring and fronds extending. He went limp, draped on his adoptive parent and blinking sleepily as his fins lay open. The beginnings of trailers on every last one of them, bars and spots and stripes and swirls of color and chroma coloring slowly.

He yawned wide, teeth glinting.

“Aye, those’ll be next y’wee pincushion.”, snickered Dualscar as Eridan stuck out his tongue wearily.

Dharma swooped in like a mother hen, petting Eridan’s face over sharp cheekbones and smooth lines, “Yes, yes, but that’s not till later. But right now how about some sweets, hm? Fizzy and darkbread fresh from the galley?”

Eridan nodded slowly, and Dualscar moved, making the young Ampora jolt in surprise. He immediately nestled against his Ancestor, and Dualscar bundled him into one still-damp arm as he stood.

All three trailed out to see the old blueblood chef, perched on Dualscar’s desk with a small pitcher and two loaves of the previously mentioned treat.

“Seems you’ve all had a right evening then!”

Eridan lifted an arm, waving from his perch.

“And theeere’s the patient!”, chortled the old blueblood, sliding from the desk to his feet and grabbing the breadknife from where it rested upon the darkbread, “He’s lookin’ lankier each day, the poor thing! Time f’me ta do my bit now!”

Dualscar beelined for his old chair, settling in as Dharma brought a thin blanket to drape over the now-slightly taller Eridan where he had (possibly permanently) attached himself to.

All three lowerbloods watched Dualscar baby his descendant, who’s sleepy eyes blinked like a dozing child as he was fed by the Terror of the Alternian Main.

“Mn.”

“What is it Eri?”, asked the Captain.

“Wanna stand; feel cramped up again.”

“It’s yeh’re fins n’doubt. Y’sure you can stand?”

Eridan nodded, wriggling to get free. Dualscar relaxed his grip on his descendant, letting the youth stand and fully stretch out. His fins twitched flaring fully and extending venomous spines before relaxing and waving quietly. Dharma gasped.

“My goodness! You’ve gone and grown into a masterpiece!”

He looked to her, his face lighting up with a tired smile and squinting eyes as his earfins fluttered wide. Dharma stopped dead and then sighed.

“Dual.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able ta tell him no again; his face is far too precious.”, she wheezed quietly, seeming to deflate.

Dualscar barked a laugh; Eridan blinked in confusion until the Doctor fetched his glasses. Eridan slid them on, and squawked.

Dualscar arched both eyebrows, “…Need new specs then, boyo?”

Eridan nodded miserably.

“When yeh’re a bi’ stronger then. Ah’m sure you could use the rest.”

Eridan nodded, yawning so wide he nearly toppled over before Dualscar stood, shooing the others gently out with a soft grin on his face in thanks. Once the room was empty and Eridan began to paw at his eyes, Dualscar drifted about, dimming lights further and yawning himself before scooping the newly molted youth into his arms.

“Now y’need sleep, li’l one. It’s been a rough night.”

Eridan nodded, yawning wide yet again and trilling softly.

They forewent the coons, instead toppling on the heavy mattress and pulling blankets to wrap around themselves. They drifted off like that, Dualscar sprawled on his back and Eridan burrowed into his side and snoring quietly. Dualscar’s eyelids were heavy as he kicked off his boots, shifting them both so he could surround his descendant with his being.

“L-Lovve you Da.”, mumbled the sleepy boy, clutching at Dualscar’s shirt with one slim hand as he buried his face once again in the Captain’s chest.

“Lo’e yeh too, Eri. Sleep well.”

Dharma checked in on them once more, adjusting blankets and kissing both foreheads as the pair slept in silence. She smiled at them both before leaving, catching Dualscar’s good eye opening slowly to look at her before closing again in slumber.

“Rest easy, boys.”, she murmured.

The door clicked softly as it closed behind her.


	4. Memento Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: violence, blood, gore. This chapter explores a headcanon I have about "Modern Alternia" and the idea of Eridan being something of an Orphaner for Feferi.

The ship shuddered hard, harder than a storm wind. Dualscar jerked awake, blinking groggily before looking around his cabin. A few books had fallen to the floor, landing by his old boots-

Wait.

That’s where Eridan’s shoes usually were.

Dualscar stumbled up, bucking his belt and tugging his shirt on as he tore out onto the deck in panic.

His crew was gathered in hushed legions, staring at the bow of the ship. Where Eridan stood, back ramrod straight with Ahab’s strapped on his back.

Dualscar slipped through the crowd, moving to Eridan’s side.

“Eri? Eri talk tae me what-”

“I’m back.”, he said quietly.

His lionfish-striped fins flared as he looked dead ahead, and Dualscar followed his gaze before making a small confused noise. High cliffs, cliffs he remembered from an age long since lost to history. Cliffs he once dove off of with his friends, screaming in joy from the thrill of the freefall.

A horn sounded reveille, and he jolted.

“What’s all this…?”

“The Trials.”, whispered Eridan.

“Trials?”

“The Trials of the Apprentice, specifically. We just called them the Trials.”, explained Eridan, “It wwas a competition, twwice a swweep or so. Run by a few old soldiers wwho had been seen fit ta be sent back after their servvice. Loyal to Her Highness to a fault, they ran these Trials ta decide who wwould take the Orphaner’s Apprentice title.”

Dualscar’s jaw fell open.

“I wwas the vvictor sevveral swweeps runnin.”, continued Eridan, “This wwas my last run before the game.”

“There’s n’way-”

“Then let’s go ashore.”

Dualscar chewed his lip, looking at two crewmates and nodding.

A few minutes later, as the small skiff pulled up to a makeshift dock, Eridan lethargically clambered from it. He was followed by Dualscar, worried; and two members of Dualscar’s crew, scared.

They climbed the steps hewn into the stone, Eridan shaking with each tap of his shoes on granite.

As they ascended the last, Dualscar’s eyes widened. He saw young violets tending their weapons, murmuring to each other. And alone, he saw Eridan. Sleeves short,  shoes discarded and glasses off and set upon his cloak, he checked over Ahab’s with a keen eye.

Once again, reveille sounded, and he stood.

“They can’t see us.”, said Eridan from beside Dualscar, “Wwe can get closer. Look in the wwater.”

Dualscar crept forward, inching to the line of violet’s at the cliff’s edge and looking down. He gagged softly at the stench of chum in the depths below, covering his mouth and nose with a hand as he saw the vast grey-white shapes moving in the water.

A sharp double blast on a whistle, and he turned to see the youths charge and leap from the edge.

His crewmembers ran forward, grabbing his shirt and arm to stop him from following as he howled out, “NO!”

Eridan strode forward, “…Don’t worry. Only twwo died this hunt.”

“ONLY twwo?!”

Eridan looked at him, his face cold, “Yes ONLY TWWO. Last Trial I wwas the only survvivvor of th’ first round.”

A brilliant streak of blue lit the sky behind him, throwing him into a silhouette’s relief.

“…An’ noww its ovver. Wwell, the first third.”

“F-First third?”

“Next is the overland hunt.”

A blink and suddenly darkness. Dualscar looked around himself, his crewmembers with swords and pistols at the ready. Two rustbloods charged by, sobbing brokenly.

“Da?”

“Wwhat Eri?”

“Don’t hate me.”

The pop of gunfire.

The rustbloods howled, one clawing at their side and the other merely dropping as they twitched from the hole in their spine.

The growth rustled, and the group watched as Eridan, face impassive, stepped through. The Crosshair’s hissed in his grip before powering down. He continued forward, grabbing the shirts of both of the victims and tugging hard before dragging them easily back the way he came.

Dualscar and his Eridan followed; and the Captain felt his chest clench.

Once again, a line of violets stood, but now they seethed as this memory’s Eridan returned with his catch.

“Two minutes; Ampora is the victor!”

The memory of Eridan bowed low.

Dualscar looked at his descendant, with his brilliantly patterned fins and his lithe lines. Wth his too-straight posture and lidded eyes.

“W…Why didn’t ye just not accept? Why didn’t ya jest no’ compete?”

“They wwould havve killed me.”, was the answer, “The final portion a this Trial was hand ta hand combat… Please… Please don’t hate me. I had ta survvivve.”

The growth around them faded, and Dualscar swallowed hard as the sounds of a crowd were around him. He turned, looking out at the gathered masses of violets and blues, ceruleans and purples.

He saw a flash of pink in a small enclosure of seats, and knew it was an Empress-to-Be.

And he looked to the center of it all, and felt dizzy.

The center was smeared in blood, littered with the young competitors. Eridan and two others; one other as the second fell back clutching his torn body in the desperate attempt to staunch bloodflow.

“I wwanted ta givve him a chance. Provve ta myself I wwasn’t a monster or murderer.”, said Eridan quietly as he watched his memories of the battle, “I looked ta Fef. I asked her…”

The sounds of Eridan’s voice ringing out, and Dualscar looked up.

“She told me howw ta end it.”

Dualscar watched his descendant’s hands, the memory’s hands, reach down, grip the head of his opponent. He heard the crack and shatter of a spinal column as a head sheared from a body.

His long silent heart dropped into his stomach.

He looked to his Eridan, who stood with eyes closed, fins flared. Eridan’s hands were curled, pale-knuckled, into tight fists.

“I…I-I ended five family lines.”, he choked out, “Th-The youngest wwas only… he wwas only four swweeps.”

Dualscar reached for him, grabbed his arm and pulled. His bootsteps were strangely muffled in this memory as he dragged his silent descendant with him, Good eye darting as he deduced the location of the exit, as he all-but dragged his descendant from the vicious place that reeked of blood and disaster. He looked to the horizon, followed the fluttering violet banner that topped his mainmast. The memory seemed to flicker around them even as he focused.

His crewmates followed behind, shaken and ill in appearance.

The trip back was silent.

The return to the ship was tense.

Eridan looked down fins drooping as his arms wrapped around himself. He was silent as they clambered back up to the deck. He was quiet when he walked briskly down belowdecks.

Dualscar watched him, dead heart breaking as he saw the suffering his descendant had internalized.

He followed him, listening quietly for hitching breaths. He listened for soft coughs, slow murmurs. He took silent strides, peering around the galley’s doorway to see him wrapped in the embrace of a confused Dharma. The galleymaid looked up and whispered, “What happened Dual?”

“It… It was a mem’ry. One a his.”

Eridan took a shuddering breath.

“…Dharma, darlin’ they made ‘im kill ‘is own kind. Tae survive.”

“Christ…”

She glanced down, adjusting her grip on the boy pressed against her and shushed him gently, petting his head and rocking him side to side with her as she dropped kisses between his horns and against his cheeks when she could.

Dualscar watched with old, sad eyes, feeling the familiar hate bubble up in his chest cavity at the idea of pink.


End file.
